


Bite Down

by lolahardy



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gun Violence, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:15:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2081694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolahardy/pseuds/lolahardy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Eames roam the desert during the post apocalyptic world.</p><p>Set in the Mad Max universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bite Down

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-ed by the awesomesauce [kitty-trio](http://kitty-trio.tumblr.com)!

Eames stood on the sand dune, peering out into the distance through his binoculars. He squinted, his hood doing little to block out the blistering light, or save him from the scorching heat but without it, he would be far worse off.

His tongue darted out slightly to moisten his dry mouth as he lowered his arm when he heard the drag of a boot. Behind him, Arthur was in the back seat of the ‘73 Ford Falcon XB-GT, his boots propped up on the open window, ankles crossed over. He sat up, moving his feet as he slid closer to the door and pushed it open, hanging onto the door with his right hand, the left holding onto the seat belt strap as he said,

“Eames? What are you doing?”

“Checking to see how far we are.”

“You said it’d take a minute.”

Eames turned from the dune and walked back to the car, looking at Arthur, seeing his slightly annoyed face, sweat gathering at his brow.

“It was a minute. Come on.”

Arthur jumped to the front seat while Eames climbed in the driver’s side, slamming the door as he started up the engine that was above the hood of the car, the gears whirling, sand blasting out as Eames turned the wheel and they began to drive.

The world had fallen to pieces. War had demolished a fairly shaky society and soon there was nothing left. Each city had eaten itself whole, burned itself to the ground, picked itself clean and it was now where even the most basic of needs were scarce. Eames had survived the war, marauders, famine and while not unscathed - he was still standing strong. He attributed his survival to Arthur, who had been at his side through the worse of it and kept him sane when he thought he would surely fall apart. They were a team, two halves of a whole, partners and more importantly lovers. Eames trusted no one more and Arthur felt the same. Though moments of their past were blurry, Eames remembered clearly, perfectly, with vivid detail meeting Arthur and falling for him even as the world around was swallowed by hell fire.

To this day, they wore each other’s dog tags.

Small, shanty towns of survivors popped up and dotted the vast desert wasteland - most having very little themselves, but always willing to barter for the possibility of something else they could use. Everyone was used to bartering - Arthur and Eames were no exception to that but there were three things they refused to ever exchange no matter what was offered: their weapons, their dog tags and their car. They had all but exchanged everything else they had for something else but those three things were something that could not be replaced or improved and it was the deal they made with each other. They had survived pretty well all things considering.

They had traveled for days, avoiding the rogue gangs that wandered through the lawless desert, blood thirsty marauders that behaved as if they were waging their own personal war against everyone who wasn’t part of them and had enough food and water to make it to the next town. But they were running low and Arthur was getting irritable. Eames couldn’t blame him, they were both tired and thirsty. As they approached the nearest town, Eames looked over at Arthur, seeing he had nodded off - a testament to the trust Arthur had in him since Arthur could only really sleep in Eames’ presence, no matter where they were. He reached over and touched his knee, shaking him a bit to wake him. Arthur lifted his head up quietly, yawning before blinking a few times and asked,

“Are we there?”

“Yes, love.”

The car stopped just behind the tallest house, dust and sand kicking up behind them as Arthur pushed open the door and stepped out. Eames followed, locking the door as he popped the trunk of the car, getting his bag out, Arthur doing the same. Before closing up, Arthur tucked a gun behind him into the waistband of his cargos, lifting up and then dropping his shirt to cover it. Eames didn’t bother being subtle, picking up the shotgun stored there and using the strap to hang over his shoulder and letting the gun hang naturally. He slammed the trunk closed and carried his bag in his hand, Arthur on his free side as they went towards the small bartering town.

The survivors the small shanty town ranged in the low hundreds, few people milling around. It was quiet though and that’s all that really mattered to Eames. He tugged at the hood over his head, feeling the lip of the fabric blocking the sun from his eyes as he glanced at Arthur while they both walked. Finding someone or somewhere to barter always became the main goal when they moved through a new town and it was easy to find in some places - other hid it like a dirty secret. Eames only had a single glance around when he felt Arthur tap his forearm and point towards a shaded corner, under a canopy, a small crowd talking, holding up random things: electronics, clothing, pottery, even books. Eames nodded and the two of them went over.

A major source of bartering was petrol. It was harder and harder to come by - natural resources all but dried up, most hoarded what remained but to live, one had to move so Eames and Arthur were always ready to trade for it. They went through the usual things, getting fresh water and foodstuffs first. When most of the crowd had thinned, unable to compete and leaving for another day, Eames began to trade for petrol. He was able to get a small container with the exchange of a handful radio parts and discarded motor parts - a fairly successful exchange.

They only stayed long enough for them to eat, evening out Arthur’s bad mood. They stored the rest of their food and water in their bags and began to walk back towards the car, talking softly to each other, making stable plans to travel as far as the petrol would take them - hopefully far enough to reach the next shanty town. Since the towns sometimes fell apart or were taken apart by gangs or marauders, they only had vague ideas of where the next one would be.

“We should head out of the desert. There’s nothing here.” said Arthur.

“You said that about that city.”

“At least it rained in the cities.”

Eames nodded.

“It’ll take a while.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Arthur smiled at Eames, a single dimple showing up on the side of his face, his hair wild and untamed from the wind and sand, lighter than his usual chocolate color from the sun bleaching. He was beautiful, despite the hardship of their lives, he was beautiful and Eames took a second to absorb that memory, loving Arthur all the more.

The slam of the car door followed by the roar of the engine followed them for a few miles, Arthur leaning on his hand as the wind howled from the open window. His eyes were closed, a faint smile on his face as Eames sped, his hood now off. They had only been driving for an hour, the shanty town now far behind them when Eames glanced up at the rear view mirror and saw something in the distance. He narrowed his eyes, trying to ignore the heat waves in the distance of the desert, now able to count three different cars, traveling side by side rapidly coming in their direction.

“Arthur…we have company.”

Arthur opened his eyes and looked up at the mirror and then stuck his head out the window, sitting back.

“They’re closing in.”

Eames nodded, picking up his shotgun from beside him and handing the end of it to Arthur, his eyes never leaving the plains in front of him. He could hear Arthur shifting, his hand suddenly on his thigh for balance before he jammed the other into the pocket of Eames’ coat, getting a handful of shells as he began to load them up. He looked up again seeing they were closer now, poles reaching towards the sky, the main car in the center armored and loaded with its own weapons. Eames gripped the wheel tighter and pressed down on the pedal.

Marauders. Blood thirsty savages either born into the group or just forgot how to be human. They saw every chance they got as a moment to harvest and sell any unfortunate body that crossed them. The human trade was more profitable among other marauders, a way to expand, to enslave, to get other things that they needed. Eames and Arthur had come across them in other cities and had been fortunate enough to avoid them in the desert so far, but it looked as if their luck had ran out. He glanced at Arthur, already armed and kneeling on the seat, gun pointed downwards but his finger on the trigger as the marauders gained ground on them. Eames reached over, taking the gun Arthur had hidden behind his waistband and held it, preparing himself.

The roar of the engines came on them faster than Eames anticipated. He could glance out the side mirror and start making out the faces of the marauder driving and he pressed down on the pedal harder, his heart pumping faster as he suddenly cut the wheel, turning the car to the side and he kept going, speeding past the marauders, hearing their screams and howls. Arthur kept his sights on them, his finger never leaving the trigger before he turned to Eames and shouted,

“What are you doing?”

“I rather avoid the fight, not go into one headlong!”

Arthur huffed, knowing he was right but not liking it anyway. He stuck his head back out, seeing the marauders turning around, resuming the chase immediately and Eames drove faster, knowing there was no way to shake them unless he lead them to the death of the shanty town. He couldn’t in good conscious - despite his urge to.

“We have to take them out.”

“Good.”

Arthur gracefully slid out of his seat, sitting on the door as he lifted up the shotgun and aimed despite the bumps of the dunes and Eames’ frantic driving. He fired off a shot, cocking the gun and aiming steadily. Arthur treated it like a sniper rifle picking off a target, never a shot wasted, calm, steady - his breathing even and steady. Eames knew his methods and did his best to keep the car straight, avoiding dunes when he could.

As much as he raced, one of the cars began pulling up beside them. Eames switched hands, extending his left arm out as he glanced over, seeing one of the marauders, most of them wearing masks of some kind, goggles to protect themselves from the sand, their skin covered in scars, tattoos and filth. Eames took the one glance and fired off three shots in succession, some of the shouts silenced. He watched the armored car begin to lose control and Eames had to drop the gun on his lap as he began to turn, grabbing Arthur by the back of his military issued jacket and held him in place as they looped around, avoiding the armored car. The other two cars remained in pursuit and Eames let go of Arthur’s jacket and resumed his grip on the wheel, hearing Arthur fire off another shot, hearing it hit the wheel of one of the other cars.

It did nothing to slow them down. They began pulling up on both sides, boxing them in. It made it easier for Arthur to fire at them, made it easier for Eames to fire at them as well though he steered as best he could, attempting to ram them away, slamming the brakes to fall back and maneuver around them, but they always managed to box them back in. When Arthur was out of shells, he sat back in his seat and reloaded and instantly popped back up, sitting himself back on the door as he fired. But just as soon as he got off one round, he yelled and Eames turned to see Arthur looking as if he was falling. He reached out, grabbing his coat, barely able to get a hold on him but it wasn’t enough and Arthur was out of his hands. He instantly felt the panic rising in his chest and he breathed hard and steadily, turning the wheel to go back, prepared to stop only to see Arthur had not fallen - he had been taken. The marauders had used the poles that stuck out of the sides of the cars as a way to lean over, the poles bending and giving way to the weight of the men on them and they had used them to pull Arthur out of the car, his gun useless if he had nothing to fire at. He could see Arthur in the air behind held by the marauder, his feet kicking, the shotgun out his hand, but the strap on his arm kept him armed as he reached up to the forearm pressed against his throat.

The obvious leader howled as he grinned at Eames, his blonde hair stringy and filthy, his face covered in dirt and some kind of paint, his teeth stained. While Arthur was in the air, a different marauder yanked away the shotgun from his arm and then he was dropped. Eames felt his heart stop for a moment, until Arthur landed on the hood of the car, nearly sliding off until the leader grabbed him by the hair putting a knife to his throat, his crazed eyes still looking at Eames - making sure he was watching. Then, the entire pack turned in a different direction and began speeding off.

Eames wasted no time following after them.

+

Sending one car to distract Eames and slow him down, the marauders were able to get away, Arthur their prisoner now. He stayed quiet and emotionless, letting the marauders poke at him - checking his hands, his feet, his back, his teeth. Examining him like livestock, ready to sell him or kill him, Arthur wasn’t sure yet. They took him somewhere deep into the desert, far from where he and Eames had ever gone because of them and now he was in the thick of it. There were caves that were still standing, hidden from easy view unless one was to go poking around. The marauders lived there, evident by the set up Arthur was dragged through, chained by his wrists.

He was shackled to a wall by his ankles, the chains on his wrist stayed in place, even as he was examined. When they were done, they left him and the leader showed up then.

“He’s good. Strong. But he hasn’t reacted to anything.”

Arthur had stayed calm, even as they took off his jacket and emptied his pockets. He had complied and looked straight ahead, blinking slowly as they shined a light in his eye to watch his pupils react.

“He’s been calm?” asked the leader.

The other nodded and Arthur watched the leader step closer.

“He may be too strong willed to intergrade. We would be better off harvesting him.”

“Such a waste though. Someone strong like that could be trained properly.”

“It would take years.”

The leader had been looking at Arthur, touching his shoulder, his hair, using his foot to nudge at Arthur’s getting no reaction. It wasn’t until the leader noticed the small ball-chain necklace at the edge of Arthur’s shirt. He reached for it, pulling it up and as he did, Arthur finally reacted.

He suddenly lunged forward, heading butting the leader, causing him to fall back. The other marauder moved, striking Arthur with the end of a gun making him fall to the dusty rock floor.

“Dom! Are you all right?”

Dom laughed, his mouth bloody as he moved his hand back from his face, his nose the source of blood. He spat as he stood back up, looking at Arthur as he watched him kneeling on the floor, his shackled hand reaching up to his own face.

“I’m fine. So that chain is your trigger. That other guy with you...he your brother? A friend? A partner?”

Arthur said nothing, gradually getting to his feet as he felt the side of his jaw ache, a bruise already forming, the skin bright red from impact.

“That’s fine. He won’t even find you before you’re sold. Or maybe he will...just not all of you.”

He laughed as he and the other marauder began to leave and while Arthur said nothing, in his mind, he repeated,

‘ _Eames will come for me. He will_.’

+

The fight slowed down Eames far more than he wanted. Taking out the two cars full of marauders made him lose sight of the car that had taken Arthur so when he managed to blast the driver of the final car in the face, he stopped his car and walked over to the wreckage.

The shot had caused the car to lose control and flip off a dune and crash. Eames slid down the sand to the wreckage, going to the passenger side and pulling out the injured marauder. He was unconscious which made it both difficult and easy for Eames to drag the man by the collar back up the dune to his own car. Once there, he dropped him near the trunk and he popped it open, finding some chains and locking the marauder’s wrists together before pulling the end of the chain to a good length and locking it to his car. He then leaned against the car and drank a bit of water as he waited for the man to wake up, glancing at him now and then. In the time he waited, Eames worried he wouldn’t reach Arthur in time. He feared they would tear him apart and sell him and he wouldn’t even known unless he came across his dog tags. Arthur was a fighter, he was strong and fearless and he was too stubborn to allow himself to be ordered around by a bloodthirsty mob.  
They would harvest everything about him and sell his organs because it was easier than trying to break him mentally. Eames had no time to waste...marauders were not known for being slow and patient.

When the marauder finally woke up with a groan, Eames used the toe of his boot to turn him over and spilled some of his water from the canteen onto his face. The marauder sputtered and coughed, his face stained from the sand and blood - the water giving him a rinse from his filth.

“I want to know where you marauders would take my partner.”

He didn’t bother to look at the man, he just pulled his hood over his head as he leaned against the trunk of his car. The man groaned and tried turning, but Eames tipped him back over with a gentle nudge of his boot.

“Answer me.”

“Fuck you.”

Eames sighed as he closed up his canteen and walked over to the driver’s side and got in, closing the door as he looked at the rear view mirror, waiting for the marauder to get to his feet and the moment he was up, Eames gave the car a little gas, lurching forward, watching the marauder stumble and fall again so Eames stopped. He watched him weakly get back up and again, Eames moved forward.

It was a lot of stop and go until the marauder stayed on his feet long enough to keep walking that eventually turned into a slow jog. He figured that it would be a matter of time before the marauder gave up.

Hours later, the marauder finally shouted, the sun, the heat, the sand and his injuries all catching up to him and he begged to stop. Eames did, slowing the car down gradually as the marauder collapsed to his knees, his shackled hands holding him up as he panted for air. Eames got out of the car again and walked over to him as he waited long enough for him to breathe normally.

“You’re wasting my time. Talk or I’ll drag you across this fucking desert until there’s nothing left of you.”

The man looked up, his face again filthy as he breathed heavily.

“The...the...caves..the caves…”

Eames instantly turned back to his car, getting in and reaching over to the glove compartment to pull out the top map. Arthur was better at navigation, but Eames knew enough to get him to the area the marauder mentioned. The caves, out in the outskirts of the wasteland where very few dared to venture. It was known for being haunted by the marauders though they were just rumors...at least until then. After a short moment of figuring out the closest collection of caves on the map and taking into consideration the direction they were traveling, Eames slammed the door and revved the engine, slamming on the pedal as he drove off, dragging the marauder with him.

+

It would only be a matter of days, hours, seconds before the marauders tore Arthur open, took whatever was of value inside his body and sell it. All alone, Arthur looked down, swallowing hard, trying to figure out what was taking so long for Eames to show his face. He didn’t doubt he would come, but was afraid it might be too late.

He looked up immediately when he heard someone returning and he looked up to see Dom, his face swollen, yet still grinning at him and the rest of the marauders surrounding him. He held a blade in his hand about the length of his forearm and he approached Arthur.

“Seems you’re out of time.”

Arthur didn’t even flinch, didn’t blink. He stared coldly ahead as if Dom was not addressing him.

There was an explosion that rocked the cave suddenly - but it was shallow and too close to the front, as if fired from a distance. Dom’s smile vanished as he gave the command for half the gang to go ahead, the other half unshackled Arthur as they dragged him out with them. They shoved him in the armored car as Dom stood beside him, the car racing out as Arthur started to fuss with the chains, feeling the pinch and tightness of the metal against his skin as he tried easing his hands out from the bindings. He looked up, watching Dom and the others before looking out and seeing Eames’ car and Eames standing there, holding something that resembled a cannon. Arthur couldn’t help but feel the corners of his mouth tug upwards and he couldn’t help but love him a little more.

He knew Eames would come for him.

Arthur redoubled his efforts to get out of the chains as Dom and the marauders gave chase.

Eames got back in his car, slamming the door and revving the engine, knowing the marauders would chase him. He knew his Arthur, he knew him better than Arthur knew himself the same way Arthur knew him. Eventually he knew he would have to catch him and he was ready to do so.

The howls of the marauders and the convoy that followed Eames seem to grow louder and louder, like an impending storm, the dark clouds hot on his heels. Eames didn’t worry though, he pressed down harder on the pedal, seeing his first mark in the desert, the tall single red flag sticking out of the yellow sand. Eames sped towards it, his hand sticking out of the window as he grabbed it, seeing the marauders vehicles right behind him and at the last moment, he turned the wheel, executing a perfect turn around as the first few marauders sped past him…

...and right into the well laid out land mines.

The tail end of the pack slammed their brakes, watching the first few trucks, jeeps and cars explode. Eames sped towards the few remaining, watching as some ran away and the leader popped up from one of the armored cars. He was angry now, Eames could see him even as the black smoke blocked out the sun overhead. Eames slammed his foot on the pedal, speeding forward and passing by the last remaining cars.

He always kept his eye out for Arthur and as his car ran by, he could see Arthur looking back at him. It was just a moment, a flicker - but it was enough communication.

Arthur was careful, watching Dom as he worked his wrists free and finally, when he was able to slip one out, he stayed still, waiting for his moment as he coiled the rest of the chain in his hands. He wouldn’t move until he watched another car flip over, Eames’ car stopping while Dom’s car turned around towards him. For a moment, Arthur wondered just what the hell Eames was doing until he saw him aiming the gun that was attached to the side of the marauder’s car. He held himself steady, pressing his boot to the side of the gatling gun for stability as he fired, Dom’s car zig zagging out of the way, side swiping the car beside them and letting them take the brunt of the shots.

It was then Arthur made his move, grabbing the knife on the side of Dom’s belt, shoving him away just enough for him to attack, jamming the blade into Dom’s side where the armor on his body didn’t cover him. Arthur turned it, making Dom scream as Arthur began climbing out onto the roof of the armored car. The wind ripped across his face, his hair getting in the way as he moved it aside, pulling the chain from around his wrist up with him, grabbing the flexible pole that stuck on the sides of the car to steady himself and watched as Eames’ car began racing up beside them. Arthur suddenly felt the tug on the end of the chain still connected to his wrist as he looked down and moved back just as fast as Dom fired a shot off at him.

Eames saw Arthur standing on the roof of the armored vehicle - moving and defending himself. He knew he had very little time before the leader was able to get a shot off and wound Arthur. He was defenseless and without protection, wearing just his thin shirt, cargo pants and boots. The glint of his dog tags caught his eyes and there was a chain around his wrist that he was struggling against. Eames drove, his attention ahead of him and on the driver, his left hand on the wheel, the other holding a gun as he saw the leader in the back, shooting, trying to pick off Arthur. Eames cursed to himself, knowing he couldn’t shoot the driver without potentially hurting Arthur and he couldn’t ram the car without the same repercussions. Eames swerved when the marauder tried to ram against him and he immediately looked up to see Arthur was thrown off as he grabbed the flexible rod from the side of the car.

He decided to shoot at the leader, easing back on the gas just enough to line up in the leader’s sight as he fired off multiple shots, the end of the chain that was on Arthur’s wrist sliding out of his hand as it snaked up, Arthur pulling it free before he jumped up, grabbing the pole and having it flex downwards towards the roof of Eames’ car. He heard him landing with a thud and Eames was finally able to shoot the driver, slamming the car and watching it flip as it lost control. He stopped the car then and heard Arthur sliding off, dropping down on the passenger side of the car, the chain clinking and making a racket before slipping off with a hiss as Arthur coiled it in his hands and finally got back in the car. He slammed the door shut and looked at Eames as he gave him a small smile.

“What took you so long?”

Eames leaned over, bringing his hand to the back of Arthur’s head, gripping his hair in his hand as he pulled him forward, kissing him. He could see the exhaustion on his face from lack of sleep, the filth and bruising on his face, but he was just relieved to have him back - whole and in one piece.

When he moved back, Arthur smiled back at him.

“Let’s go to the city.”

“Yes, my love.”

The car roared as it kicked up a cloud of dust and sand behind them.

+

They drove until it got dark, Arthur had fallen asleep the entire time, his body relaxed and loose. Eames got a chance to look at him now and then, seeing the bruising on his jaw, the splotches of marks on his throat that looked like fingerprints, the chaffing on his wrists from the chains and where they had rubbed on his skin for the past few days. They would turn to scars eventually and Eames would kiss them when he could.

Arthur had pulled the chain off his wrist eventually while Eames drove and had rested his wounded wrist on his lap afterwards, rubbing it periodically until he fell asleep, his head against the seat. There was filth and marks on his fingers and fingernails, cuts and scrapes from the maltreatment he received.

When they reached the outskirts of the city, the sun was just setting, lighting the sky on fire behind them. Eames got their foodstuffs from the trunk along with water and fed Arthur, checking his injuries as he did. Arthur groaned in annoyance, smacking Eames’ hands away.

“Stop it. I’m not a child.”

“I know that. I just want to make sure nothing is serious.”

“I would tell you if something was serious.”

“Would you stop? You do have some minor injuries and I don’t want them to get worse. Will you let me do this please? You’re being a prat.”

Arthur looked down and brought the energy bar to his mouth and bit off a piece - a silent acceptance of defeat. He let Eames clean off his wounds while he ate and he drank some water from the canteen before he stopped. It had been days without a proper meal or drink and he had to eat slowly or make himself sick. When he was done, he got into the backseat and yawned, resting. Eames only continued to drive closer to the city.

He stopped when it got dark and got in the back with Arthur, taking a blanket from the trunk. It was a minor luxury, one they held onto because they could. He sat down beside Arthur, pulling his laces loose and pushing off his boots, leaving them on the floor of the car. Arthur had already done that, curled up trying to keep himself warm. The moment he felt Eames beside him, he pressed closer to him, tucking his arms under Eames’ heavy jacket and sighing. Eames kissed the top of his head, pulling him closer until Arthur was kissing his throat and gradually climbing on his lap.

It was slow and consoling - it had been years since they had the comfort of taking their time, getting fully undressed and they still couldn’t, but they did what they could, Arthur easing out of his pants while he helped Eames out of his shirt. They kissed deeply and long, reassuring themselves, relieved that nothing had happened. The past few days had been the longest they’ve been apart - one could hardly function without the other and while it remained unspoken, they both knew it. Their hands wandered all over each other, fingers touching, roaming, skating over skin. Eames lifted up Arthur’s shirt a high as he could, bunching it under his arms until Arthur cursed and moved back, taking it off completely.

They fucked slowly in the backseat, Arthur’s arms around Eames’ neck, his eyes closed, his mouth open as he moaned softly. The windows had fogged up from their heat, their skin hot and covered in sweat. When Arthur moved back slightly to kiss Eames, he held his face between his hands, his dog tags bouncing off his chest on the upstroke. When Arthur moved his hands down again, resting them on Eames’ shoulders, he took his chain, curling his fingers in it as Eames’ hands gripped his waist, lifting him up and down, watching his cock sliding in and out of him, seeing Arthur’s strong thighs tense at his sides, his pants mostly down and when he looked back up at Arthur, he saw him smiling at him.

He reached up to Arthur's hair, curling a fist in it, bringing him close for a kiss, feeling his frantic breathing against his mouth and he bit his lip, feeling Arthur’s teeth on his own upper lip, nipping back just as gently. When they pulled back, Eames groaned softly, feeling Arthur bend and yield to him - only him. He was the only one who got to see all sides of Arthur, his strength, his weakness, his willingness to give himself over in such a manner. Eames loved him for all those reasons and so many more.

He took one of Arthur’s hands, letting go of his hip and held his hand, seeing that soft, caring look on Arthur’s face that only showed up in moments like that. He fell in love a little more and Arthur rode him harder.

He could feel Arthur’s thighs tense and relax with each lift up and when Arthur lifted his hand away from Eames’ throat, letting go of his dog tags to press his hand to the roof of the car, his bounces become more frantic, shallow, riding Eames’ cock, bringing them to the edge. He reached his orgasm first, his legs shaking violently against Eames’ sides and he comes on the both of them, a small whimper escaped his mouth as he did. His clench was enough to make Eames follow and Eames was helpless as he came, his hand grasping Arthur’s so tightly he heard his knuckles crack. He let go a moment later and Arthur let his arms wrap around Eames again, resting against him as they both fall back against the seat.

It was quiet outside, sometimes the wind kicked up sand and it scraped against the sides of the car. The windows streaked from condensation, gradually began clearing up, Eames holding onto Arthur the whole time. Eventually, it began getting cold and Arthur slowly got off him, getting his clothing back on, Eames doing the same and then they got under the blanket as Eames held him.

“I love you, baby.”

Arthur smiled, his eyes closing.

“I love you too.”

“We’ll be in the city by morning.”

“Yeah. We can get restocked.”

“Mmm. It’s going to be a lovely day tomorrow.”

“Yeah...it is.”


End file.
